"So, you finally start talking about yourself, and now it's like I'm talking to a complete stranger!" Michael exclaimed through his cellphone. "Never, in the twelve years I've known you, heard you say the word harvest, and you've said it, like, 6 times."
May carefully balanced her phone between her neck and ear, while she soaked in the bathtub. Slowly, she set her leg on the edge of its cool porcelain surface, and began to rub shaving cream along her calf, feeling goosebumps crawl along her skin. "You only caught the word harvest?"
"What's that suppose to mean?" He asked, sounding a little annoyed.
"Well, I told you I lost nearly 60 pounds-"
"Yeah, I didn't want to say anything at the shop, but you are looking a little thin."
"Shut up." She replied, annoyed herself, staring through the white tinted water at her slowly vanishing ribs. "Also, I told you that I managed to wash my clothes and have baths in a wash-bin for the first three months I was here."
"I honestly don't believe that. I can't picture it whatsoever."
May washed the shaving cream off her hand, and grabbed her razor, struggling to take off the cap. "Please don't picture me in the bath."
"Aren't you in the bath right now?" He asked, humouring himself.
May stayed quiet for a moment, and responded. "Not the point."
"My point is, I think you're exaggerating."
"If you think that," She started, while beginning to shave her legs. "I'll make you use that stupid tub, and maybe the outhouse in the woods."
"How delightful." He responded, sarcastically. "I'll pass. But hey! Maybe I can milk a cow."
"I don't have any."
"What?" Michael exclaimed, clearly sounding dissapointed. "How can you be a farmer and not have cows?" May put her razor down, only one line of hair removed, and she pinched the bridge of her nose, slightly annoyed, as she listened to Michael ramble on. "Invest in cows, I can't picture you as a farmer until I have witnessed you and a cow. Actually two, because if you only have one, you're just a weirdo who owns a single cow. Also, overalls, the jean ones, you need those too, and wheat! Actually, how much are cows?"
May thought back to the price check she got off of Marnie. "Last I heard, it was 1500 G per calf."
"Per leg?" Michael asked, his voice sounding quite shocked.
"A calf's a baby cow." She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose harder now. "I swear, you can be the dumbest person I know."
"I will take that as a compliment." He said, happily. "Please tell me you do have some kind of fancy animal to replace the cows."
May grabbed the razor once more, and continued to shave her last leg. "I have a cat, and some chickens."
"What are there names?" Michael asked, excitedly.
"The cat's name is Smokey. For the chickens, there's Mimi, Nu, Charlene, and I haven't named the last one."
"Dibs on naming it!" He shouted; May pulled the phone away from her ear with her other hand. "Anyways, uhm... So," He asked, dragging on the 'O' noise. "Can I ask the thing I'm not suppose to asked?"
"Which is?" She asked, slightly distracted.
"Why you got kicked out."
"Chuck."
May could hear Michael clapping through the receiver, making her roll her eyes. "So word-ly and descriptive, you should write books for a living."
"Why do I let you sass me like this?" She asked, rising from the tub.
"Because I'm amazing. So are you gonna tell me why?"
May sighed once more, bringing her now-smooth leg into the luke-warm water. "So, you know how I got fired from Mac's All Day Breakfast?"
"As does everyone who's worked there for more that three months, go on."
"Well, I couldn't find another job after that." She said while she stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around her chest.
Michael stayed quiet for a moment, and then asked. "I thought you also worked at one of those boutiques down Kaiser street? Albums or something?"
"I did." She responded, opening the bathroom window to let the remaining steam out. She took a seat on the cold, closed toilet seat lid, and crossed her legs over one another. "But it took two jobs to pay my rent, and it wasn't enough to get my own apartment. So, when the end of the month rolled around, Chuck threw me out, which I know he's wanted to for a long time now, and I ended up in the valley, since no one would take me in, and I couldn't get a hold of you..."
"Aw, shit, May." Michael responded, sadly. "I'm so sorry, I was at my mom's on Cloverleaf Island. Also, you're story sounds a little PG to me."
"No details." She responded, standing up. "Super touchy subject."
"I understand." Responded Michael solemnly. "What was with that anyway? Him raising your rent like, every three months."
May grabbed the phone with her hand finally, and switched it to her other ear. "Because he insisted that our rent was always getting raised, meanwhile, it's been the same since the first day we moved in."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I peaked at the check in their room." She admitted; Chuck would have been furious knowing that May was in their room. "I was looking for a pair of socks from Aunt Marie."
"What a dick." Michael said, with certainty in his voice.
"I know. I miss Aunt Marie, and Shamus so much."
"I know you do, sweetie." His voice went soft. "You'll see them again, even if I have to bring them up there myself."
"Like Chuck would let them leave the city." She huffed; Michael stayed quiet. "I don't expect you to respond. Can we talk about something else? She asked, rising from her toilet seat.
"Sure, whatever you want." Anything new and exciting going on?"
May rubbed her hand against the fogged mirror, staring at her hair, which was tied in a high bun on the top of her head. "Well, my hair is pink now." She responded, admiring the soft, pastel pink colour.
Michael stayed quiet again, and finally said. "I saw you less than 24 hours ago."
"A lot can change in a day."
"Like becoming a farmer- wait. How in Yoba's name did you end up with a farm anyway? You said you couldn't pay rent."
May thought back to her grandfather's letter; his words spoke of a broken life with her grandmother, Beatrice, and his need for change. His life had become depressing, lonely, loveless, and his heart desired somewhere he felt he could belong, where the nature was real and not fake palm trees along the Athyrium sidewalk. He left to the Valley during his battle with depression, and slowly, he brought himself back to life. His farm, he had wrote, was his most precious gift to give, and all it gave was May a sense of guilt.
Her life was forced into change, and this farm was a last resort, instead of a choice of difference. Her early months were agonizing, filled with lonely, hungry nights, and solace was her only company. Her days were spent with chores and silence; her electricity bill would sky rocket if the TV was left on all day, and her money situation always was tight. Her nights were spent in pain, and her sleeps became dreamless, only until she had the money to start eating again.
"Grandpa Flowers gave it to me." May responded softly, her own eyes guilting her through the mirror.
"Your grandpa was a farmer?" Michael asked, a little surprised.
"Yeah, he's pretty popular around here still." She responded, leaving her small washroom; she walked into her living area, and b-lined towards her dresser. As she began digging through it, searching for a nightgown and undergarments, she said, bitterly. "Y'know. For a dead guy."
"How cynical." May nodded to herself while pulling the cool, grey nightgown over her head, letting it flutter down, just above her knees, and slowly slipped on a pair of underwear.
"You know how I can be. Anyways," She said, her eyes drifting to the her window, staring into the blackness of the night sky. "I gotta head to bed. It's the start of a new month, and I've got a lot of things to pick and water, and some hoeing to do before noon."
"Hoeing? You didn't say Alex was coming by."
May groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose once more. "Why do I even talk to you?"
"Because you love me."
"I do." She responded, sitting on her bed beside her small, black cat. Smokey meowed at her, slowly padding to her lap and cuddled against her.
"Is that your cat?" He asked, excitedly.
"Yeah." She replied, stroking Smokey's soft fur, as she carefully lied on her side, gently nudging the cat off her lap, and beside her once more.
"Please, send me a picture of Him. Her? Whatever, show me."
"Alright, I gotta go though."
"I know, sweet dreams May, I'll see you in two weeks."
May turned off the call, and quickly snapped a picture of Smokey, who slept peacefully in the crevice of May's body. She smiled, staring at the black cat, remembering the day Marnie brought her to her house. As she sent the picture, she quickly typed out to Michael, Smokey's a girl, by the way.
He responded quickly. Tell her I would die for her.
She was in the cabin, before the bathroom renovation, before the new wall paper and tiles were lied down, before the water stains bloomed onto the ceiling. The room was clean and near empty; a small TV sat on the floor, a single chair and matching table sat in the middle of the room, and her worn, spring mattress on a steel frame was all the furniture in the four walls. Nearly fifty photographs covered a wall, adjacent from the bed, with a few people she knew in them, her grandmother, her mother, Tiana, her Aunt, Marie, and a picture of May at two years old. The rest were unfamiliar.
May took a seat at the edge of the squeaky bed, holding the hand of an elderly gentleman. He was nearly 75, his hair a soft, light grey, tinted with auburn. His pale, green eyes reached out to her own, staring peacefully into them. His wrinkled hand gently held her small one, and a happy smile spread against his lips.
"May," He said, gently, tears welling the corners of his eyes. "I'm so glad that you're here. You've grown so much."
May felt uncomfortable in his presence. Though he was her grandfather, he was virtually a stranger to her; all she knew about him was he showed up to her birth, and once to Athyrium when she was two. May begged someone to come in with her, her aunt, her mother, her grandmother, all which denied. They insisted they had their share of good-byes, and that May was old enough to do this on her own. Her grandmother gave her a stern word, saying to make it quick, and that no one wanted to be around Grandpa Flowers.
"Uh-huh." She responded, pitifully. Her eyes glimpsed to the curtain-drawn windows, wishing to be outside with her family, to watch the falling snow blow past their car as they returned to the city, and to the airport in the morning.
"My sweet granddaughter." He squeezed her hand gently, his tears now snaking along his cheeks. "One of my greatest regrets was not being able to spend more time with you. Time is a tricky thing, it goes by too fast, the last time I saw you, you were two. Tell me, how old are you now?"
"Eight." She said, quietly.
His tears fell heavier now, and May felt pity for the elderly man; his green eyes watered, and his lip softly quivered. "There were so many years I didn't spend with you all. I want you to know, no matter what anyone says, is that I love you, and your mom, your aunt, and even after all of these years, I still love your grandmother.
"I left two gifts for you, one on the table, and one on the chair." May's eyes lit up. "Go on, sweetheart, grab them." As May pattered to the table, her eyes immediately drawn to the large, pink plush that was tucked into the chair. Grandpa Flowers continued speaking, his voice growing more hoarse, and quietly, he began choking up. "The stuffed rabbit is for now, your mother once told that it was one of your favourites. I wanted to get an octopus too, but I couldn't find one."
May hugged the large rabbit to her chest. "Thank you grandpa." She said, softly, and reached for the envelope.
"That one is for when you're older, have patience. Come sit, May." She said, patting the bed once more.
She took a seat, and he grabbed her hand once more, setting her envelope on the bed beside her, and keeping the rabbit squished between her arms. "There will be a time when you're older, that you may need this. Modern life may crush you, and that bright, happy spirit that I see in you, might stand before a growing emptiness."
"Why?" She asked, with childish curiousity.
"Sometimes, it happens when you grow old. That's what happened to me, and that's why I had to leave. I hope Marie and Tiana understand, I know Bea doesn't. My point is, when that day comes, I want you to have this envelope and use it to your advantage." He gently touched the top of her head, his tear-stained cheeks spreading into a soft smile. "I hope nothing like that happens to you.
"I regret that I won't see you grow up." He ruffled her hair softly, and brought her down for a hug. Weakly, she wrapped her arms around him, the plush rabbit squished between them. "Regardless, I want you to know that I believe in you, May, and that I love you, so very much."
"I love you too, grandpa." She replied, tears starting to run along her own cheeks.
"Now go, my time is coming. Don't forget May, and don't lose the envelope. I hope you never need it."
The tears wound't stop falling, cold against her cheeks as she returned to the winter wonderland of her grandfathers farm. Hundreds of leafless maple trees stood in rows, their tapping buckets filled with snow, lying before the trees. Lines of scarecrows saluted to them, along with small, fenced off areas, assumed for farming. The scenery May once admired left her sad, and wishing she knew who Edgar Flowers Sr. really was.
Her mother picked her up as she closed the shack door. She held her tightly, while the four of them walked out of the farm, and back to the bus stop; their car couldn't of made it along the snow filled dirt road. "Did grandpa give you those?" May nodded, softly crying against her mothers shoulder, an envelope in one hand and her rabbit in the other. "Did you say your goodbyes?" May nodded once more. "It's okay, my girl. He's heading somewhere better."
Her grandmother sharply huffed, and that was all that was said. They walked in silence along the short, dirt road, surrounded by the forest. The only noise was the sound of May's sniffling nose. Her mother gently sat her down in the back of their rented car, and pulled her seat belt over her chest. Her lips met the top of her head, and a soft, tear-filled smile filled spread against her mouth.
"You made me proud today, May." She said softly, and stared up at Marie, who sat in the back with May. "You too, Marie."
"Tiana, I would like to get out of this retched Valley. You can tell them this in the car." Her grandmother's words were sharp and bitter; impatiently, she started the engine.
"I love you, babe." Tiana whispered to May, and tucked the rabbit in her arm against her chest. May watched her mother rush around the car, and into the front passenger seat. She smiled sadly at Marie and May, and turned her attention forward once more.
Outside the car window, May watched the passing landscape of farmlands and small residential areas, her aunts hand pressed in hers. Sadness overwhelmed her, slowly turning away from quiet sobs to soft hiccups. The radio stayed off; the only noise was the humming engine of the car.
"Grandmother, why aren't you with Grandpa Flowers?" May asked, breaking the silence.
"Because he left, May." She said, sharply, her attention on the road. "He left me, Tiana and Marie to buy this crappy farm in the country, with no regard or care of his family that he left behind." May wasn't sure how to respond.
"Mother..." Marie started, quietly, and was cut off immediately.
"Oh, don't stand up for him Marie." She said, bitterly, her voice rising. "The only reason he gave a damn to call any of us out here was to say his goodbyes and to clear his guilty conscious." Her shoulders tensed up, as well as her arms; her foot pressed the gas pedal closer to the floor, and their speed increasing.
"Mother, please don't do this." Tiana said, quiet as well. Her soft green eyes stared against her mothers brown ones, who glared angrily at the road.
"Well it's true!" She nearly shouted, angrily. "He doesn't care Tiana, when will you get this through your thick skull!"
"I don't want May hearing this." Tiana said, sharply. "She's only a little girl."
"Well she should know!" Suddenly, her grandmother's glared at her through the rear view mirror. "May, I don't care if you're miserable, or if you're broke, or if 'modern life just won't cut it' I swear if you abandon your family, I'll roll over in my grave. Are you listening?"
May just nodded, her eyes wide and afraid.
"You better." Her eyes remaining on her. "That's the one thing I would never forgive you for. Yoba will never accept him into his great field, even if he offered him every 'kind gesture' these so-called hick folk call him, you don't abandon your family!"
"Mother!" Shouted Marie, fear in her eyes.
She jerked her head around. "What Marie?" She shouted.
The tears were flooding down her cheeks, her eyes gently growing puffy and red. May could feel the devastation in her eyes, her heartbreak that jerked and cracked her voice. She didn't notice the Joja Mart truck, honking it's horn, and slamming into the front of the car. The last think May could see was her grandmother and mother crashing through the windshield.
